


Ain't Goin Nowhere

by TheSparrow93



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: M/M, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-08
Updated: 2012-12-08
Packaged: 2017-11-20 14:51:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/586568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSparrow93/pseuds/TheSparrow93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl thought he had lost everything but maybe there is still something in his life that makes everyday worth it. Sequel to 'Simple Words Hurt'. Daryl/Glenn</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ain't Goin Nowhere

**Author's Note:**

> I had someone ask for a sequel to 'Simple Words Hurt' and because I am so nice, I wrote one.
> 
> I hope it measures up to the first one.
> 
> Note: You might want to read 'Simple Words Hurt' first. This is my first real try at telling a story from Daryl's perspective. I hope it is okay.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

There are moments when he feels like he just can't take another second. Another second of being on guard, of cleaning blood off his hands, of hunting, of watching worthless peoples backs, of the cramps of loss that have found a home in chest. The prison had made things better but it wasn't perfect, you still had to be on alert most of the time. Life wasn't meant to be this way, not that life had ever really been that much of a picnic.

Growing up dirt poor was tough but having a drunkard father, absent mother and a bat-shit crazy brother didn't improve anything. Years of fighting for everything has hardened his heart in a shell thicker than even the scars on his body. He was smart, smarter than he could ever let on, he we good at school work and great with anything he could put his hands on but intelligence wasn't a prized thing in his house. He knew very young that he didn't discriminate like his family and he wasn't very picky about what was going on below his bedmates belts but that was something people could never know, not in his town.

So life was never easy, but he never thought it would suddenly turn into a B-rated horror movie, not when things where finally looking up. When for once in his whole existence he had something good and worthwhile. Not when there finally was a Dixon that was going to be worth something in this world.

Thinking about it hurts. It hurts to think about how good life was for just a little while. Sometimes when he is on watch up in the guard tower and nothing too threatening is in sight his mind wanders even though it shouldn't. It wanders to big blue eyes and a baby tooth missing smile. Of getting dragged out of bed at seven on Saturday morning, even though it was his only day off from the garage, to sit for hours watching cartoons and eat soggy fruit loops. Lounging in the bath with too much bubbles and toys after a too long day but the laughs of the little thing playing submarines and battleships between his knees makes it worth it.

He thinks about the first camping trip even if it was just in the land behind the house the little guy sure was brave, not crying once the whole night or wanting to go back up to the house. Laughing his ass off when he had to rub calamine lotion on a pouting boy's legs, and telling his own poison ivy horror story. Then on rare occasions he thinks about Merle and how the sun raised and set with that little blonde in his eyes. Merle was a low rank of a brother but his was an amazing uncle.

Growing up he always told himself he never wanted to be a father. He was so sure he would end up like his own, sitting in the recliner cigarette hanging from his lip and bottle of Johnnie Walker dangling from his drink numbed fingers. Only ever willing to get up when there was an ass he saw needed a kicking, whether it really did or not.

He had been so wrong about himself. He still drank after his boy was born but not as often or as heavily and even then it was only beer never hard liquor. He tried to quit smoking but it just wasn't happening, he made a rule to never smoke in the house or in the truck when his son was in it. His boy was so good; he got into mischief of course but was no hellion like he had been, so discipline was rarely needed.

A lot of the time he thought about those first few days after. Thought about slumping behind the wheel of the truck just driving, everything he and his brother owned crammed in the bed around the bike. Merle was trying, really trying to be there for him but neither of them very good at comforting someone so it just came off awkward and forced. He just drove with seemingly the rest of the city out of Atlanta.

It was a week later when he and Merle had set up camp on the side of the road that he really let himself feel. He was yanking their tent out of the truck when something banged against the metal of the bed. He tossed the nylon carelessly to the ground and peered into the bed. There nestled between two duffle bags loaded with clothes was a crossbow. He lifted it out; it was light and new, a beginner's bow.

He made a strangled noise in his chest as he ran his fingers over it; Merle must have grabbed it by mistake. Daryl's own bow had been being repaired when the shit storm they now called life started. This wasn't his bow; it was bought for smaller hands. Hands that had only fired it once and good lord was it a good shot, the little guy got his skills honest.

He gasped as a sob ripped through his throat. The crossbow slipped from his fingers to land softly on the dirt. His legs buckled and he had to brace himself on the side of the truck. Heavy footsteps ran up behind him and large hands on his shoulders made another cry tumble from his mouth. He let himself be turned around but his legs couldn't hold him causing him to collapse on a hard chest.

Merle didn't taunt him or call him a pussy. He pulled him closer letting bitter tears soak his shirt. He could remember he was babbling and blubbering.

'It's not fair. Why? I don't know what ta do. God. Why Merle? Why him?' He got snot all over his brothers' shoulder.

'I know, shh. It's gonna be okay. I promise. Yer so strong.' Merle had never spoken to him like that but he guessed now it was because he was feeling the same pain.

Daryl was jolted from his thoughts when the door to the tower opened with a creak. Rick came in to relieve him, which meant it was midnight, had he really just spent his five hour watching lost in his own mind? He shouldered the crossbow that was now his alone and gave a nod to the man as he started to leave.

"Daryl, can I have a minute?" Rick asked stopping him at the door. Daryl nodded.

"We haven't really gotten a chance to talk about what this and I guess this is as good a time as any. I won't say I know the pain you went and are probably still going through but I have an idea. I thought for a long time that my family was gone, my son was gone but that can't compare to actually losing them." Rick said with a look of sympathy.

"No, it can't." Daryl said in a flat voice, he didn't want to talk about this with Rick.

"I know, but I keep feeling, well more fearing that we are going to lose you." He said shifting from foot to foot.

"I aint goin nowhere." Daryl said confused.

"I know that, I know I can rely on you, I just keep remember a saying I used to hear from time to time, it was probably from a movie but the message still holds." Rick said trying to make himself more clear.

"And that is?" He asked crossing his arms casually.

"Take away a man's son; you've truly given him nothing left to lose." Rick answered. Daryl let the words roll around in his head for a bit.

"I see." He said after a few minutes.

"We don't want to lose you. I know it must be hard on you but please, don't give up, okay?" Rick said squeezing his shoulder.

"I aint goin nowhere." Daryl repeated himself; getting a nod from Rick he left the tower.

It was late and the cell block was quiet, the sound of walkers a distant murmur inside the walls. He silently made his way up the stairs passing the perch he spent the first night in. He took extra care when he passed Lori and Carol's cell, the poor woman needed as much sleep as she could get.

He entered the last cell on the row and quietly set his bow down. He tossed his vest and shirt off and kicked his boots aside. He carefully sat down on the edge of the bottom bunk, the sleeping inhabitant sniffling softly. He ran his fingers through silky black hair.

Glenn had meant it when he said he wanted to know everything. It had taken almost six months to tell him every little detail he could remember and every story he could think off. Glenn was easy to talk to; he didn't feel uncomfortable speaking of his boy to the kid. He laughed at the right times, cried at the correct parts and remained silent when there were just no words.

Glenn really was a lot like him. He knew all the Pokémon and could compare in depth the reasons why the old stuff was classic but the new crap was just an abomination. He loved video games and if electricity was still readily available Glenn would whip him at Black Ops just like another little nerd he remembered. Glenn liked sugary anything but cereal was his favorite, if they were able to get their hands on a box of still good Captain Crunch they knew to get what they wanted before Glenn set eyes on it. Daryl laughed the first time Glenn called him a ninja because he used to get hour long speeches from a little blond on his ninja status.

They did have their differences too because Glenn wasn't him, Glenn was Glenn. Glenn didn't really like the woods or hunting but he would go if asked. He could argue for hours about anything while the little guy always caved after a few minutes but Daryl could win them over the same way. Make Glenn smile and he lost any angry fibers in his being. Glenn wasn't really a kid, even though he called him one, Glenn was no child.

He loved his son, more than anything else in the world. He loved Glenn too but it was different. It was different loves but they both brought such warmth and just a little bit of terror to his heart.

Glenn sniffled again and started to stir, pressing his head toward the hand carding through his hair. He yawned and stretched before opening sleep fogged brown eyes. He smiled as he woke, reaching up and resting his hand over Daryl's.

There are moments where he knows he will be fine. He knows he can go on to another day and handle everything that may be thrown at him. He can go hunting happily, do watch and patrol without fuss and watch out from now less useless people's backs with little annoyance. Those tired drooping eyes made life just a little better and the pangs in his chest lessened.

"Hi." He said his voice groggy.

"Hey." Daryl said rubbing a pillowcase caused crease on a smooth cheek.

"How was watch?" Glenn asked sitting up. He slid closer to the other man winding his hands around his neck, rubbing his Adam's apple with his thumb lightly.

"Same." Daryl shrugged. He hadn't really watched much and then that conversation with Rick had him thinking too much about too heavy things.

"You okay?" Glenn asked seeing the look on Daryl's face.

"Yea," Daryl said reaching up to cradle Glenn's head in his hands, "You know I'm not goin nowhere, right?"

"Yes." Glenn said softly, he didn't even look confused, it was like he just knew what Daryl meant and maybe he had been worrying like Rick but he never made it seem like he was. Glenn's smile was so tender and Daryl leaned forward to press his mouth against it.

Daryl had lost his son and that would always hurt but he didn't have 'nothing' left to lose. He still had plenty to lose and it was all wrapped up in the little Asian in his arms. He would do anything to make sure he didn't lose him because then he really would have nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> How was it?
> 
> Please comment and let me know your thoughts. I could write a third if anyone wants it.
> 
> ~Huggies&Kissies~


End file.
